


Popular Pastimes

by triste



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iceland realised all too late that he’d walked right into a trap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Popular Pastimes

**Title:** Popular Pastimes  
 **Author:** Triste  
 **Fandom:** Hetalia  
 **Pairing:** Hong Kong/Iceland  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Status:** Complete  
 **Disclaimer:** Not mine

 **A/N:** I was reading [Xenophobe's Guide to the Icelanders](http://www.ovalbooks.com/xeno/Icelanders.html) yesterday when I came across this particular paragraph:

_"Both men and women knitted. They made blankets from knitted triangles, gloves with fingers but without seams (a skill which still attractions the admiration of the knowledgable), sweaters, anything and everything to keep out winter's chills. Stories of obsessional knitting are legend. Cow and sheep herders knitted as they walked across Iceland's rugged landscape. Farmers' wives were even said to have knitted while they made love."_

And I just had to write fic.

~~

The room was quiet. The only sound was the hum of Iceland’s laptop and the clicking of the keyboard as he concentrated on updating his blog. Hong Kong seemed equally preoccupied as he did whatever he was doing with his cell phone (probably spamming China and England with annoying messages, judging by the way his lips formed a smirk of amusement). Whatever the case, as long as he was busy bothering someone else, Iceland didn’t really care. Although he couldn’t help feeling somewhat sorry for the recipients of Hong Kong’s texts, it did, however, leave him relieved that Hong Kong was bothering someone else instead of him.

Unfortunately for Iceland, though, Hong Kong decided to break the atmosphere of calmness with an unexpected question.

“By the way,” he asked, eyes still fixed on his phone, “is knitting still a popular pastime at your place?”

Iceland frowned, not that it had any effect. Hong Kong was too busy texting to notice. Bringing up a subject at random was troublesome enough, but not even taking the time to pay attention to Iceland’s response was even more so. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody does that anymore. People these days are much more technologically inclined.”

Hong Kong made a “hmm” sound before finally raising his gaze. “Then is it true that farmers' wives used to knit while they made love?”

It was Iceland’s misfortune to have taken a sip of coffee while Hong Kong was still talking, but his laptop ended up suffering right along with him when Iceland choked on his drink and, to his horror, sprayed a mouthful of it all over the monitor. After a few frantic seconds of wiping down the machine, he breathed a sigh of relief to find that no lasting damage had been done. 

“You haven’t answered me yet,” Hong Kong reminded him helpfully, unaffected once again by Iceland’s unhappy expression. “Did they?”

“I don’t know,” Iceland replied, attempting to cover his embarrassment with irritation. “Where did you even hear that?”

Hong Kong shrugged. “I guess I read it somewhere. Or maybe someone told me.” 

“Or maybe you made it up?”

There was a brief moment of silence, one in which Iceland hoped that Hong Kong would get bored and find another topic, but he was still too interested in their current conversation to let it drop.

“We should try it,” he announced. “You know, to see if it’s actually possible.”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” Iceland held a hand up before Hong Kong could interrupt. “Besides, I don’t knit. Even if I did, it’s not like I have anything to knit with.”

“That’s totally a lie,” Hong Kong said. “I found needles and some yarn in your bedroom earlier while you were preparing snacks in the kitchen.”

“Don’t go snooping through other people’s things!” It was a bad habit of Hong Kong’s, and it drove Iceland to despair, but there was no use getting angry and shouting. The best weapons to use in a situation like this, as far as Iceland was concerned, were reason and good sense, both of which Hong Kong lacked when it came to satisfying his curiosity. “Anyway, it’s dangerous. I’m sure you’d agree after getting a needle in your eye.”

“We could do it doggy style?”

“Then *I’d* be the one getting impaled!” Iceland regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, especially when he saw Hong Kong’s dirty grin. “Wait – No, just...” Unable to add anything more eloquent than that, he finished his sentence with an exasperated “ugh,” and then threw a cushion in Hong Kong’s direction, but not before Hong Kong could take a picture of him blushing. 

“Another one for my collection,” he said, looking pleased. “I think I’m going to save it as my wallpaper.”

“Delete it,” Iceland growled, making a grab for Hong Kong’s cell phone, “along with all the other photos you’ve got of me on there. How many do you have by now?”

Hong Kong paused to do a little mental arithmetic, keeping his phone out of Iceland’s reach with one hand while holding him at a safe distance with the other. “I can’t say for sure, but probably a couple of hundred? Most of them are you being angry and flustered, but there’s more than a few of your sleeping face.”

Iceland hung his head, part horrified, part furious, but there was nothing he could do. There was always the option of breaking Hong Kong’s phone as a last resort, but even that wouldn’t work. Hong Kong would definitely have the pictures backed up somewhere, if only for blackmail purposes. Although he gave the impression of being laidback and carefree, he could be very thorough and calculating when he wanted. Iceland had always assumed it came from years of being spoiled by China and Iceland. Hong Kong was too used to getting his own way.

“You’re a pervert,” he muttered miserably, giving Hong Kong’s arm a half-hearted punch. “And that’s an insult, not a compliment.”

“But still, we should do it,” Hong Kong insisted. “Sexy knitting. I bet England’s tried it at least once. Should I call him for some tips?”

Iceland gritted his teeth. He might as well be talking to himself, as far as Hong Kong was concerned. Hong Kong only ever listened to what he felt like hearing. Worse still, he was getting far too much enjoyment out of the situation. 

“You’re loving this, aren’t you? Being a menace, I mean.”

An enthusiastic nod from Hong Kong made Iceland want to smack him again. “Your awkward face is a real turn-on. Also, it’s funny. I can’t get enough of it.” And then, just to piss Iceland off that little bit further, he sighed in disappointment. “Oh well, it probably wouldn’t work anyway. Multi-tasking might be more than you can manage.” 

Now feeling seriously harassed, Iceland scowled. “I can multi-task like a pro, for your information.” Actually, he had no idea whether he was capable of such a thing or not, but he had to defend his pride at the very least. 

“Oh.” Hong Kong placed his phone down. “Okay. Cool. In that case...”

And Iceland realised all too late that he’d walked right into a trap.

 

End.


End file.
